C2: I Really Am the Savior
Who didn't have a crush when they were in school?
[System Notice: Memory Anchor Stabilizing… Emotional Nodes Synchronizing…]
[Cross-dimensional host personality alignment complete.]
[Remember the site domain: Come here for super convenient access to Taiwanese novels]
—
Han Qingmeng was Xi An's crush in middle school, a quiet girl with long, straight black hair.
Back in the eighth grade, when his feelings first sprouted, she hadn't fully blossomed yet. At that time, she could only be described as pretty—soft features, reserved temperament—and she was practically invisible in class, the kind of girl who sat quietly by the window and rarely spoke.
But she didn't need time.
Or rather—she didn't need much of it.
By the second semester of ninth grade, her features had sharpened, her figure had begun to develop, and the faint outline of beauty had already taken shape.
By the time she entered high school—
She had completely transformed.
A budding beauty turned into a full-fledged one, radiant enough to draw attention without trying.
—
In this small county town, no one formally ranked "school beauties."
The concept itself was outdated, almost laughable.
Yet strangely—
It never disappeared.
Aside from a few socially active students, most people didn't even know the names of attractive classmates outside their own circles.
But Han Qingmeng was different.
Anyone who had seen her, even just once in the corridors of County No. 1 High School, would subconsciously label her—
"School beauty."
No announcement.
No ranking.
Just quiet consensus.
—
"…My taste really was decent."
Xi An muttered to himself.
Looking back, none of the girls he had liked had turned out unattractive.
The problem was never his eyes.
It was him.
Even when he finally managed to win someone over after graduation, he still lacked the ability to truly hold her heart.
—
"Stop thinking about that and lend your old man a thousand already."
"What, are you buying something to confess to Han Qingmeng?"
"…You really can't go two sentences without mentioning her, huh?"
Xi An rolled his eyes.
Then paused.
"…Wait."
In his past life, he had teased Liang Tao the exact same way.
"…Alright, fair."
—
"Cut the crap. Are you lending it or not? If not, I'm hanging up. Don't waste my time."
"Hey, hey! I'm lending it! Damn, I said I'll lend it! Why are you acting like such a—"
"Prick."
The word reached Xi An's lips.
Then stopped.
He swallowed it back down.
—
At this age, relationships were fragile.
Unlike the deep, decade-long friendship they had in his previous life, right now—
A single careless word could create cracks.
Besides, Liang Tao hadn't yet become the hopeless "simp" that made Xi An curse him in the future.
For now—
He could let it slide.
—
"After lunch, I'll come find you. Then we'll go out with the money."
—
Xi An leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly.
In this era—
Making money wasn't hard.
Power-leveling.
Web novels.
Blind box reselling.
All viable.
—
But if you wanted fast cash—
Street food stalls were king.
—
His grandfather's electric tricycle cost nothing.
A barbecue grill from the hardware market—two to three hundred at most.
Stock up on starch sausages, vermicelli, oysters.
Set up at the park night market.
Done.
—
And more importantly—
He had a natural advantage.
—
"…Face value."
Xi An smirked faintly.
At fifteen, his features were clean, youthful, and sharp—just enough to draw attention.
A handsome face alone wasn't enough to dominate.
But—
It was the best support card.
Add any decent "main card"—
And it became a winning hand.
—
In his past life, during a certain period—
He sold his face.
His roommate sold his abs.
The university playground had nearly been overcrowded because of them.
If not for their dorm's good relationship with the department secretary, they might have been banned entirely.
—
Even in a poor county town—
A primary school kid would still throw a tantrum just to buy skewers from someone good-looking.
—
After hanging up, Xi An coughed from the thick smoke in the internet café.
For a moment, he instinctively reached for a cigarette.
Then stopped.
"…No need."
In the future—
He wouldn't need nicotine to stay awake.
It was time to quit.
—
Just as he was about to log off—
The QQ call rang again.
—
"Play a couple rounds of CF?"
"No."
"Come on, I'll let you use my newly bought mythical weapon! Hey—I'm lending you money! What's wrong with playing a few rounds with me?!"
"…Fine."
—
Friendship—
Needed maintenance.
—
Xi An logged in.
Entered the room.
—
Liang Tao played like trash.
But he was addicted.
He didn't touch Bomb Defusal mode.
Only Zombie Mode.
—
And he loved camping.
Perched in a high spot, spraying bullets with his "mythical weapon," abusing zombies like a tyrant.
The moment he got infected—
Quit.
No hesitation.
—
"…Truly the scum of the earth."
Xi An muttered.
—
Of course—
The stupidest thing this "scum" ever did—
Was being a devoted simp for two full years in high school.
No matter how much Xi An advised him—
He wouldn't break up.
—
During that time—
He got cheated on.
Repeatedly.
—
"…Idiot."
Xi An shook his head.
What was the point of becoming a playboy later?
Coward.
—
Playing CF again after more than a decade—
Xi An felt slightly unfamiliar at first.
But—
A young body was a cheat code.
—
Reaction speed.
Hand-eye coordination.
Neural response.
All at peak condition.
—
Combined with over ten years of experience—
Even if he couldn't pull off god-tier pro plays—
Destroying a Zombie Mode public lobby?
Easy.
—
He aimed.
He fired.
He moved.
—
Every action was smooth.
Every shot landed.
—
Xi An survived to the end, emptied his magazine, then calmly transformed—
Two axe strikes.
"Little Red" down.
—
He weaved along the edge of the zombie horde, controlling spacing perfectly.
—
The cheap headphones blasted distorted sound effects.
The screen filled with red and green corpses.
—
Then—
Xi An froze.
—
[Mission Accomplished!]
[Target Classification Adjusted: "Man-eating Demon" → "Infected Entity (Substitute)"]
[Judgment: Valid Kill]
[Reward Issued]
—
"…Huh?"
—
Xi An slowly removed his hands from the keyboard and mouse.
His character was instantly overwhelmed.
"Ghosts win!"
Liang Tao's wailing echoed in his ears.
—
"…That counted?"
—
He leaned back.
A perfect tactical lean.
—
Without hesitation—
He opened the warehouse.
—
The previously empty 9×9 grid—
Now had items.
—
Slot 1:
A sphere of radiant golden light.
—
[Source Restoration]
[Effect: Repairs all irreversible damage. Restores host to peak state.]
[Warning: One-time use.]
[Use / Discard]
—
"…Repair irreversible damage?"
—
Xi An instinctively looked at his left wrist.
A two-centimeter scar.
Gray-brown.
Twisted.
Like a centipede.
—
Back in primary school—
He had tried opening a glass soda bottle with a metal frame.
Too much force.
The bottle exploded.
—
A severed vein.
Over a dozen stitches.
Even with anesthesia—
It hurt enough to make him cry.
—
Since then—
He never dared to open glass bottles again.
—
"…That counts."
—
He licked his lips.
—
Slot 2:
System Currency ×300
—
Slot 3:
Nichirin Blade
[Take Out / Discard]
—
Xi An glanced up.
Security cameras.
—
"Bathroom."
He muttered into the mic.
—
"Lazy people piss a lot…"
Liang Tao's duck-like voice faded.
—
Xi An stepped outside.
Behind the internet café—
The ditch.
—
Quiet.
Empty.
Only cicadas.
—
He reached out.
—
The blade appeared.
—
Three feet four inches.
Silver-white edge.
Cold.
Sharp.
—
The oval tsuba was standard.
The handle wrapped in crisscross cloth, forming diamond grips.
—
Weight—
About 2.5 kilograms.
—
Perfect balance.
—
"…Good center of gravity."
—
He swung.
—
"Crack!"
—
A clean gash appeared in the tree trunk.
—
"…Real."
—
No hallucination could replicate this.
—
But—
No color change.
—
"…Strange."
In the Demon Slayer world—
Nichirin blades changed color.
—
This one didn't.
—
[System Note: Due to dimensional misbinding, weapon attributes remain in base state.]
—
"…So even the sword is bugged."
—
He stored it.
Opened missions.
—
New entry:
—
[Daily Missions Unlocked]
[Daily Mission: Eliminate Evil Ghosts (0/2)]
[Reward: System Currency ×100]
—
"…Nice."
—
One ten-pull every fifteen days.
Stable income.
—
A hint of joy surfaced.
But—
Compared to rebirth—
It felt small.
—
He returned.
Continued playing.
—
While "killing demons."
—
Half an hour later—
He stood up.
—
"…Enough."
—
Outside air.
Fresh.
—
"…Better."
—
His original plan—
Making money—
Had to wait.
—
Compared to supernatural power—
Street stalls meant nothing.
—
Even borrowing money—
No longer urgent.
—
The nichirin blade alone—
Was enough.
—
A weapon.
Stored.
Instantly deployable.
—
Even without special effects—
In modern society—
It was terrifying.
—
"…Under a sharp blade…"
"…everyone is equal."
—
But—
Not here.
—
Not now.
—
Gacha.
Source Restoration.
—
Too dangerous outside.
—
He returned home.
Locked the door.
Entered the bathroom.
—
Mirror.
Reflection.
Golden light in hand.
—
"…Let's test it."
—
Xi An raised his hand—
And used the Source Restoration.